Dreams Reborn
by Cyber Angel Rowan
Summary: A boy without a lineage. A girl without a purpose. And a family of flying jesters. It all adds up to one thing: Trouble. T cause I'm paranoid like that.


**As stated in my profile, I'm just going to chuck as many stories as i can onto the site, and to hell with formatting!**

Takeshi sat in his last class of the day, waiting for the bell. His green eyes held many emotions, including some that shouldn't be there. The fifteen-year-old was dressed in a dark blue shirt, red jacket, jeans and sneakers, with his long hair tied into a ponytail. "And that concludes our lesson today. Remember to finish that sheet for homework over the weekend." The teacher finished as the bell rang. Everyone rushed out, leaving Takeshi slowly moving toward the door. His teacher came over and put a hand on his shoulder. "Takeshi, I know that you've been having a hard time at home. It's okay if you don't get the work done." "Thanks, but I'm going to try anyway." With that, he left, a heavy head on his shoulders and an even heavier heart in his chest.

**TWANSITION!**

Takeshi had barely stepped out into the yard when he was surrounded by thickly built 17-year-olds. He sighed. "Here we go again." One stepped forward. Tony, by loose definition, was a thug. Dumb, muscles, top of the pecking order and top of the school boxing team. "Hey, Yellow-head." He was always calling him that. Either that or Banana Boy. Or freak. Or Pony Boy. "Hello, Tony." His response was even, but his emotions were anything but. "Now could you please move aside? I kinda need to get home." His tormentor loomed over him. "Not without teaching you some respect, Pony Boy." Everyone pressed in closer, knowing what was coming. Tony drew back his fist and grinned. "Don't worry. You'll probably lose consciousness before the pain sets in." Takeshi acted surprised. "Wow, That's a bigger word than usual. You are getting some degree of intelligence after all." Tony growled and smashed at the boy. And yelled in pain as his fist struck concrete. Takeshi had jumped straight over his assailant and was running for the bike shed, blonde ponytail (done in the Zero style) flying. "So long, smelly!"

**TWANSITION!**

As Takeshi arrived at his house via bicycle, he was greeted by a screech from above. Smiling, he looked up and yanked on a large leather glove. A grey shape flapped down and landed on his outstretched arm. "Hey, Hirondelle. How are you?" A croon from the bird. "Yeah, my day sucked as well." The falcon flew up next to a window on the second floor. The boy smiled. His parents had studied birds years before he was born. On his tenth birthday, they'd given him a ten-year-old falcon to call his own. He'd raised him, cared for him and loved him. One thing Takeshi didn't do, however, was spoil him. A falcon has to know how to hunt. Fortunately, Takeshi had laid down rules about what was fair game and what wasn't. Hirondelle was his only friend. His parents had disappeared five years ago, just days after they'd given the bird to him, and his step-parents hated him. These were his thoughts as he walked inside. His stepmother, a thoroughly dislikable woman named Belinda, looked up. "Oh, it's you. Don't you have homework?" His stepfather, Daryl, looked at her. "Come on, dear, the kid just got home." A glare sent him back to his newspaper. Takeshi cleared his throat. "Anything I should know about?" Another glare, but Takeshi was used to it. "Yes. Daryl and I are going out for the night. Betty's too young to go where we're going, so you'll have to look after her." **Translation: We need you out of our hair for the night and we're dumping Betty on you.** Takeshi's shoulders slumped. Betty was a good kid as far as stepsisters went, but she had a tendency to whine when ignored. And a tendency to destroy things. Still, it was a good thing that she was staying home. He could always use someone to talk to. "Now get out of my sight." That was it. No, **Hey Takeshi. How was your day at school?** He trooped up to his room and flopped down on his bed. A hand under the pillow brought out one of the two other things his real parents had left him: A key stylised to look like the wing of an eagle. He slipped it around his neck, relishing the feeling of comfort that it brought him. A few minutes later, he heard his so-called 'caregivers' leave the house and drive away. He went downstairs and started on dinner. The smells soon enticed Betty out of her room, though how she could smell anything through all that perfume she wore, Takeshi had no idea. "Hey Takeshi. Where are the parents, and what is that awesome smell?" "Belinda and Daryl," Takeshi would never call them his parents, because they weren't. "are going somewhere, they didn't say where. And that smell is what I'm cooking. My special sushi, and if you're still hungry there's ice cream in the freezer." Takeshi made sushi like no one else on the planet. First, he would cook the rice, as one is supposed to do when making sushi. Then he would get salmon and caviar and season them with salt, pepper and other spices and wrap those in with it. Divine. Betty bounced up and down. "Great! I don't care what my parents say, you're awesome!" Takeshi smiled a smile that he reserved only for her. "That means a lot to me Betty. Thanks." Ten minutes later, Takeshi chopped the sushi and served it up. Betty took her plate and sat at the table. Takeshi joined her after a couple of seconds. "I've never actually felt comfortable at this table. Your parents make life pretty hard." Betty didn't comment. They showered her with praise for even the slightest achievement on the one hand, and treated him like devil spawn on the other. "I know that Mum doesn't like you, but Dad's okay, isn't he?" Takeshi shook his head. "If anything, he's worse. He never takes my side and he's timid as a mouse around your mother." Betty frowned. "Well, you've always got me. You know that, right?" "Yeah." Takeshi stood and washed his plate at the sink. "I'm going to bed."


End file.
